Just Say You Understand, I Never Had This Planned
by PoeticallyPathetic19
Summary: Dean forces Sam into confessing something neither of them is ready for. Wincest. Previously: I'm Not Sure I Believe Anything I Feel


-Note- This started out as one thing and just turned into something different all together. Maybe one day I'll try my original plan again, but for now, here is the story that has a mind of it's own. Hopefully it's better than expected. -Note-

"I wonder if this door locks automatically," Dean mused teasingly, passing the door from hand to hand. He knew the door's lock was busted because he'd been the one to bust it a few weeks back. Sam's surly behavior had caught him on a bad day, so instead of pounding the snot out of his brother he'd taken it out on the storage room door.

Stupid, but who was going to know? It wasn't like anyone ever came down here anyway. Kicking Sam's ass wasn't going to fix anything either, the last thing he wanted on top of everything else was his baby face staring accusingly at him every time he walked into a room, or Dad's lecture about childish behavior, about how he was supposed to protect Sam.

He knew he was supposed to protect Sam, he'd been doing it every damn day of his life since the kid had been born. He didn't need lectures and he didn't need Sam's attitude.

He'd been PMSing for the past two months. Snapping at Dad and Dean over anything, and if he wasn't snapping at one of them, he was pouting. His jaw set and his lower lip stuck further out than it had a right to at his age.

Something was wrong and he wasn't sharing, no matter how hard Dean pushed. He just gave him the cold shoulder and went back to his pouting. Needless to say Sam was great company these days.

Sam whirled around, his face set in his usual disapproving look. He darted forward and grabbed the edge of it, shoving it back open. "You're so immature," he snapped.

"And you're so boring. Lighten up, Sammy. What the hell's gotten into you lately?" Dean snapped back, following Sam into the storage room. "You're even more of a pain in the ass." Amazing, Dean hadn't thought it was possible.

"Nothing," he grumbled. "Now can we just look for this thing and get it over with?"

"You scared?" Dean teased, hoping he could draw Sam out of whatever it was he was wallowing in.

"No, I just want to get this done before Dad passes out. Then at least he won't be on my case tomorrow. Not that you have to worry about that."

Sam's sour tone had him flinching. He was glad Sam's back was to him or he would have taken that for an agreement. And he was definitely not agreeing with Sam. If that what was the cause for his moodiness these past couple of months, then agreeing him was certainly not going to help things.

"Come on Sam," he protested. "He's not any harder on you-"

xXx

"Can we just do this?" Sam snapped.

He didn't really feel like getting into it with Dean right now. He wanted to find whatever it was Dad swore the neighbor had put in the storage room and get the hell out. It was ridiculous and he knew it, Dean knew it too. He'd been slurring so much it was damn near impossible to know what it was they were looking for.

"Fine," he agreed half heartedly. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know, I thought you did. Don't you two speak the same language?"

Sam bit down on his tongue, wishing he'd just kept quiet. He wasn't being fair to Dean, he wasn't like Dad. Not like that.

"When are you gonna get off your period, geekboy? Because you're seriously startin' to piss me off."

"Can't have that, now can we?" Sam said sarcastically.

Dammit, he just couldn't get control over his stupid mouth. Everything that came out was sarcastic and hurtful. Like everything that was going on inside him was Dean's fault. And it wasn't. This was all him.

That was the problem.

xXx

Dean laughed harshly. The little bastard didn't know when to quit. "Go back upstairs and find out what Dad wanted before I kick your ass myself," he said without thinking.

The words hadn't completely left his mouth when he realized how big of a mistake they'd been. But it was too late to turn back, Sam would know what he meant no matter how he finished that damn sentence.

Something was bothering Sam and he should have been trying to help him, not hurting him. It wasn't like Sam had really crossed any lines. He was just worried about Sam and pissed that his brother wasn't confiding in him anymore.

Still, that was no excuse for saying those words to Sam. Reminding him of something they both wanted to forget.

God, he could be such an insensitive bastard sometimes.

xXx

Sam stared at his older brother for a moment; sure he'd heard him wrong. That wasn't funny. Wasn't anywhere near funny. Dean had to know that, had to know that those wounds weren't healed yet.

He blinked back tears, clenching his jaw tight. Why did he have to go there? Sam hadn't done anything to deserve that. No amount of wining, sniping, or bitching deserved _that_.

"Let's just get whatever it is that's down here," he said, his voice hitching halfway through. "And forget we know each other."

Wasn't that what he wanted after all?

xXx

"I'm sorry," Dean said softly, scratching the back of his head. He hadn't meant to be such a jerk, but Sam wasn't making it easy to be anything other than that. "I didn't mean that, Sammy."

"Whatever. Why don't you just go pick up Lisa or Kara, whoever it is tonight and leave me the hell alone?" His defenses were back in full force, the soft accusation from before long gone. Just like Dean's patience.

"Dude!" he yelled. "What the fuck is your problem? You've been like this for two _months_! I don't want to hurt you Sam, but you're not making it easy for me."

"Guess, I had it coming this time too then, huh, Dean?" His face was colored with hurt, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. "I should have known better, right?"

And there went Dean's indignation.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. He couldn't say it enough. It wouldn't do any good, it was obvious from the look on Sam's face, but he had to say it.

"You didn't mean it, yeah, I got that."

He didn't mean it. It was stupid, like most of the things he said. But Sam wouldn't believe that anymore than he believed he was sorry for saying it.

xXx

Yeah, he knew what he'd been like for the past two months. He didn't need a reminder. He needed a solution.

Sam didn't know what to do anymore, or what to say or how to act around Dean. It was like he'd stopped being able to focus on anything _but_ the attraction he had to his brother. And the fact that Dean was always there, didn't help.

Dean crossed the room to stand in front of Sam, forcing him to look at him. "Sammy, what's going on?" he asked, cupping the back of his neck.

"Nothing," He muttered, resisting the urge to lean back into his touch. "Nothing's going on."

Dean sighed and stroked the back of Sam's neck with his thumb. "Is this about what happened in Arizona, because I told him if he ever touched you again I'd-"  
"No," Sam protested quickly. "It's not that."

"Did he hit you again?" Dean demanded.

"No, he hasn't touched me." He frowned and glanced over Dean's shoulder. "Thank you," he added as an afterthought. He'd never really thanked his brother for defending him in the first place. Or for taking care of him after. That had been the major turning point for him. The night that just completely ruined everything.

"You don't have to thank me," Dean said breaking into his thoughts. "He shouldn't have done it and it's my responsibility to protect you."

His heart sank. Of course, it was his job to protect Sam. He didn't have a choice. It wasn't even really about Sam, it never was.

xXx

"I love you, Sammy," Dean added finally. He'd seen the look on his brother's face, that hopefulness when he'd started out, shrugging off his thanks. He'd been expecting something real from Dean, not the whole protector crap that he knew drove Sam crazy. "What else could I do?"

Sam's arms wrapped tight around his middle, as if he suddenly felt sick but he didn't pull away. Not until Dean lowered his face within inches of his, breathing his name a lot more invitingly than he had any right too.

"Sam, what's wrong? You've been acting off ever since that night, so if it doesn't have anything to do with Dad, then what is it? And if you tell me nothing one more time, I swear to God, I'll lock you in this basement until you give me a real answer."

"I can't, Dean…"

"I'm pretty sure you can. Just open that smart mouth of yours and instead of snapping at me, tell me what it is that's bothering you." It really was that simple. If Sam would just trust him, he'd take care of things. He'd do anything it took to protect Sam.

"Trust me, this is something you don't want anything to do with."

Could Sam be any more wrong? "You're my brother, that's never going to even be an option. What's _wrong_?"

Sam sighed in defeat and sank to the floor, suddenly exhausted. "Ever since that night, I just haven't been able to forget things, all right Dean? I'm fine."

Sure, and Dean had healthy relationships with the girls he met. "You're not fine. If you were fine you wouldn't be snapping at me every ten seconds, you'd be too busy fighting with Dad, trying to pull me into the middle of something, or wasting your time on school material, we both know, you already know."

"I need to get through this on my own. You can't help me."

Dean knelt down beside him, his hand finding its way to the back of his neck again. "You don't know unless you try, right? It's not like either of us having anything better to do so give me a shot," he pushed.

Sam shook his head, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. He'd rather bleed from the force of his silence then tell his own brother. Dean guessed he deserved it for the earlier comment, but it didn't change the fact that it stung like hell to see how little Sam trusted him.

"Sammy, please. Let me help you," he pleaded.

xXx

Sam shook his head furiously. No. This wasn't something he could lay on Dean, this wasn't some stupid problem that Dean could make go away with a joke or a fist to someone's face. It was much more than that, it was all about feelings he couldn't control. That Dean wouldn't be able to control either. That he'd get sick talking about.

It was better if Dean just left it alone.

"It's nothing," Sam whispered shakily. He was so close to breaking on this. Dean was too close, too pushy. He was having a hard enough time not jumping Dean as it was. The whole concerned big brother, I love you routine was wearing him down fast.

"Sam," Dean snapped. "This is ridiculous. Just fucking tell me what's going on! If this is about Dad you have to tell me. I promised you it wasn't going to happen again, don't stop me from keeping that promise!"

"It's not about that!" he yelled, shoving Dean back hard enough for him to land on his ass.

He stared at Sam, stunned. His brother's hurt expression made his head ache. This was all too much to deal with right now. Just too fucking much. He groaned and buried his face in his arms. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? Why hadn't he just come down here on his own instead of dragging Dean into it?

"Fuck, Sam. What the hell is with you, man? I'm trying to help you! Lose the attitude and just face up to whatever it is that's turning you into a girl. I'm losing my patience!"

Dean was losing patience? How the hell did he think Sam felt?

"Drop it."

"I'm not going to drop it. You just knocked me on my ass because I was trying to help you. There's no way in hell I'm dropping anything. Tell me now, or you're not leaving this basement. I've got plenty of time, Sam. I'm not the one that cares about school. That's you, kid."

"Whatever," Sam muttered, staring to push to his feet.

Apparently Dean had meant what he said, because the next thing he knew he was on his back, Dean's fingers digging painfully into his arms as he hovered over him.

"I'm not playing games anymore, Sam. It's been two months. If you're not going to come to me willingly, then we're just going to have to do it the hard way. So talk."

"Let me up!" Sam yelled.

Dean smirked down at him and shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Dean, let me up!" He struggled against his brother's grip, forcing his way up to find himself back on the ground, his head throbbing from the impact. "God dammit, Dean! You don't want any part of this. Let me up!"

"That's my call, Sam."

"And this is my call!" he shot back. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that, Sammy. Because I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell your problem is."

Sam groaned and shut his eyes. This wasn't easy to fight back, he could practically feel the confession on the tip of his tongue. If Dean kept it up, he was going to be sorry. They were both going to be sorry.

"Sammy," Dean whined. "Come on. Tell me already. Dad's going to come down here looking for us soon if you don't just-"

"I love you, okay?" Sam yelled, cutting him off. He thrashed violently against Dean's hold, the room suddenly much too small. "Is that what you wanted to hear, Dean?! I. Love. You."

Dean rolled his eyes, obviously not getting it. "Lame excuse, Sam. Just tell me already and I promise I'll let you up."

Oh, God. How could he not get it? Sam had just spilled his heart out. Had told Dean his deepest, darkest secret, and the idiot thought he was making excuses!

"You're not listening to me," he cried, exasperated. "I _love _you."

His brother hesitated for a second, not sure if he understood what Sam was saying. His grip loosened, but he didn't let go. "What are you talking about?"

Sam bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, forcing out his next words. "It's sick and wrong and every other fucked up thing you can think of, but it's the truth. I thought I could forget it and move on. That maybe I'd out grow it, but that night just put everything into perspective for me. I can't change how I feel. I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said quickly, tears filling his eyes. "Really."

xXx

Dean sat back on his heels, watching Sam curiously. If he was lying, he was damn good at it. His face was red, his eyes pleading as fresh tears tracked down his face. His mouth was screwed shut as if he were trying to keep himself form saying anything else.

"You're serious?"

Sam nodded sadly. "Yes," he whispered.

Dean nodded absently. His brother _loved_ him? The whole intense, mind blowing, gut wrenching, heart stopping, breathtaking, knock you on your ass kind of _love_? The kind of love that made you do things you'd never do before, made you say things you'd never even thought of saying. The kind of love that made you into a completely different person when you were with them. The kind of love Dean had never thought existed.

He released Sam's arms and sat back down. His brother loved him.

Sam sat up slowly, scooting away from Dean. He knew he should stop Sam, should talk things out, but he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around Sam's confession.

He'd expected Sam to tell him that Dad had lost his temper again, that someone was messing with him at school, or even something as simple as girl troubles. The idea that Sam was struggling with his feelings for Dean was…it was unbelievable.

"It's okay, Sam," he finally said. And it was, because Sam was just confused. Things hadn't been easy for them, especially not for Sam who had Dad and Dean breathing down his neck at all times. Constantly on him about one thing or the other, trying to protect him or look out for him. More Dad on the first part, Dean on the last.

Sam had been handed off to him when he was only six months old, and Dean took that responsibility serious. To Sam's annoyance, he was sure. With everything else going on in their lives, it was no wonder he'd formed an attachment to Dean. He had his own attachment to Sam, just with less incestuous thoughts. It was bound to happen eventually, it was either that or Sam would hate him. Personally, Dean preferred this to Sam's hatred.

xXx

"What?" he breathed. Dean couldn't mean that. How could this be okay? He'd just admitted to being in love with his older brother. What about that could ever be okay?

"I'm not mad at you, you're just confused. Besides Dad, I'm the only person you've been around long enough to feel anything for. It's not your fault, Sam."

Sam groaned. "That's not it Dean. I _love_ you. In every way I shouldn't. The only thing I'm confused about is how I'm going to get out of this one."

Dean nodded and leaned forward. Sam jerked back quickly, "What the hell are you doing?" he gasped.

"You think you have feelings for me, right?"

He felt heat flood his face. "Yeah," he muttered. "I do."

"Well," Dean said. "I think you're wrong."

"You already said that."

He made a face at his younger brother and went on. "If I kiss you, maybe that will show you I'm right."

"And how exactly is that going to prove you right?"

"You won't feel anything, Sam. You can't. You're my _brother_. Even if you don't want to be."

"Dean!" he cried. "I never said that I didn't-"  
"Not the point here, Sam."

Sam sighed in frustration and defeat but nodded. Dean was right. They were talking about his unnatural feelings for his brother, not anything else. Not right now.

"Things will be better after this. You'll see that there's nothing there and we can find out what it is Dad wants and forget any of this happened. Okay?" Dean reassured him.

Sam hesitated for a minute before nodding slowly in agreement. This plan could backfire so badly, he just knew it. Dean didn't get that he'd been through this more than once with himself. Trying to reason and explain the feelings he was having for Dean, but he always came to the same conclusion. _He was in love with his older brother. _

Dean didn't want to believe that Sam was so sick and twisted, and Sam understood that. He didn't want to believe it himself, but he didn't have a choice. This was real and there was nothing he could do about it.

xXx

Dean watched his younger brother for a second longer before making his final decision. He'd never really thought about Sam in that way. He was his younger brother and it was wrong. He'd spent his life taking care of him, doing what was right and what would keep him safe. The idea that he felt more than brotherly love had never crossed his mind. It fell into the category of dangerous/hurtful things. And hurting Sam was never an option.

He knew that his plan was pretty stupid. Not to mention twisted. But if he could just make Sam see that there was nothing there, that he didn't really feel those things then they could go back to fighting and hunting. They could go back to being brothers again.

It never entered his mind that maybe this was a selfish plan. One that gave him a reason to kiss and touch Sam without blame. At least without complete blame. Sam had after all admitted feelings that ran much deeper for him and he had to find a way to deal with it. This was a solution, no matter how stupid it seemed.

xXx

He held his breath as Dean leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against his. The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant and unsure. Two things Dean never was. Then his brother's mouth was sealed firmly over his- full, soft, and inviting.

Sam felt his insides turn to liquid, everything around him fading into nothing. His eyes fell shut and his hands found their way to Dean's waist, surprised to find Dean's hands fisted tightly in his hair. Sam said a quick prayer and pulled Dean closer, letting him devour his mouth.

When Dean didn't pull back and freak out like he expected, Sam relaxed. The first brush of tongue had him shivering with pleasure, his mouth parting instantly. Any thought that this was wrong, that this would only hurt more in the end was gone. It was all about Dean and the kiss.

xXx

Dean's heart fluttered with the first brush of lips, leaving him unsure of himself. He'd never felt that way kissing any girl before, and he'd kissed a lot of them. He'd gotten excited, been bored, hell, he'd been nauseous a time or two. But his heart had never fluttered.

He shook it off and kissed Sam for real this time. His brother's fearful gaze glazed over with pleasure for a split second before his eyes fell closed. He forced back a grin and fisted his hands in Sam's hair, the silky soft feel of it almost as good as the kiss.

Sam seemed to shake off whatever hesitance he had as well, his hands sliding down to rest on Dean's waist before pulling him practically into his lap. His heart fluttered again. Sam's sudden insistence had him craving the taste of Sam and without thinking he licked at his lips, asking entrance.

He didn't deny him and with one last lick at Sam's swelling lips, he found his way into Sam's mouth. The slick heat and eager battle of tongues melted him, urging him on. If Sam hadn't whimpered just then he would have been tugging his t-shirt over his head, and taking things beyond what even he could stop.

He pulled back quickly, panting. "Better?"

Sam looked stunned, his chest rising and falling as quickly as Dean's. He blinked a few times and swallowed hard, trying to focus. "Worse," he finally croaked.

_Yeah, _Dean agreed silently. _Much worse._

The idea that this plan was selfish, that had never once entered his mind before, hit him now in full force. All it had taken was the first brush of lips for him to realize that he'd always had unnatural feelings towards Sam. Maybe not like _this_, but there had been something there.

The need to protect, love, and touch had always been there.

He hung his head in shame. That had been stupid and he knew it, he was playing with fire. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

xXx

Sam watched Dean's face change, his head drop in disgust. It had been stupid to tell him anything. He should have let him think whatever he wanted, that all this was over Dad and one drunken night.

Now Dean felt guilty for encouraging him, for giving him a taste of something he could never have when he was happier not knowing. Even if happy had never described it before.

He pushed to his feet and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, hoping to get rid of the taste. He was shaking, he realized as Dean glanced up at him. Sam clenched his fists together and tried to wipe every emotion from his face. He didn't want to make Dean feel any worse than he already did. He'd done this for Sam. It wasn't his fault it had backfired. It wasn't even his fault that Sam had agreed to it, knowing full well it wouldn't work.

xXx

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said quickly. "It's-"

What, okay? It wasn't okay. Sam wasn't dumb enough to believe it was, even if Dean could force himself to say it. He would know Dean was lying if for no other reason than he'd be the only one to ever say that. Dad, Bobby, or anyone else they'd ever met…even for the Winchester boys this was wrong.

He dropped his head in defeat and hoped that Sam understood.

xXx

Yeah. That was what he'd thought. Nothing about this could ever be okay. He nodded and turned on his heel. He felt like an idiot standing there, hoping his brother could find some way to make it seem less fucked that he was in love with him, than it really was.

Dean couldn't do that and it wasn't fair of Sam to ask him that.


End file.
